


Paperman

by Faiz



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Gen, Paperman inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 06:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1334932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faiz/pseuds/Faiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guy-Man hated his music. He also hated wind. But apparently those two things were going to work against him and force him to meet someone new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paperman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [monodes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=monodes).



Guy-Man groaned in frustration as he slammed his pencil back on the table as he reread the lyrics scrawled across the page in sloppy cursive. It didn’t fit. No. It was choppy, messy, it didn’t flow at all. He slammed it back on the table as he began folding it, using his pencil to crease it properly until it turned into a paper airplane. He took careful aim as he chucked it out the window. It sails cleanly out and hit the wall of the building next to him and plummeted to the ground. He didn’t care. It lead to an alleyway, and it was probably messy down there anyways, it doesn’t matter if some crap music made its way down there.

He needed more coffee for this. Or wine. Maybe if he were drunk he’d be able to produce something that was actually good enough to be music. He stood up and shuffled into the kitchen, fully intending to drown himself in caffeine and alcohol so then he could maybe write something that didn’t suck. He had already smoked enough cigarettes, any more and he’d run out. He didn’t want to run out to the corner store as long as he could. 

After he poured himself some coffee (and then decided to splash some whiskey in it) and shuffled back to his desk, he stretched and sat back down. He was going to write some fucking music even if it killed him. Or someone else. 

Meanwhile, someone else was having a considerably normal and non frustrating day. Thomas was glad to be out in the fresh air, even if he was just running errands to help out his dad. He got to walk around the city at least, and enjoy the scenery and watching the interesting people of Paris. Like that lady with the funny hat. Or the guy walking five dogs at once. He was just happy that he was able to go outside, because he was a bit guilty of not having walked out once for the past four days.

But he had been a bit busy those days. He had been trying to write some music, but he found himself a bit out of practice. Nothing was coming out quite how he liked. He figured today that he’d need some fresh air to give himself good ideas before he could even go back to thinking about writing. If it got any worse he’d probably end up hurting his instruments out of sheer anger. 

He paused when he passed the flower shop, looking at the arrays of color with great interest. He loved the smell of them, and even considered buying some. He didn’t really have anyone to give them to, but it might brighten up his room. He reached forward to pick up a bright pink one when his hand was nearly hit by a paper airplane that landed nestled in between the roses.

“Plane?” He picked the paper out of the roses, and brushed off some of the water droplets that had gotten on it. “There’s writing…”

Guy-Man sighed, as he looked at the papers that were still left on his desk. They were...adequate. Not exactly what he wanted, but the fact that he wasn’t a complete failure. He figured that maybe if he got a change of scenery he’d be able to think of some better music. That’s how it worked for other people, right? So he gathered up the papers that he thought were salvageable, and walked out of his flat.  
As soon as he stepped out, his hair was in his face from the sudden gust of wind that hit him. He groaned. He didn’t realize it was windy. He didn’t want to go back up to his flat though, so he decided that he was going to go into a coffee shop or something instead of going back inside. He clung onto his papers to make sure that they weren’t going to fly anywhere. He zigzagged his way through his fellow Parisians on his way to get some coffee.

Thomas was completely awestruck. The paper plane had had some of the best music he had ever seen. Who would ever turn it into a paper plane and just throw it into some roses? It almost made him feel useless! Nothing he had ever written had matched up to what he was seeing. He wished he knew who wrote it, just so he could tell them that they shouldn’t be throwing away such wonderful pieces of music.

Thomas let out a rather unmanly squeak as wind nearly blew the paper out of his grasp, but he realized that he saw a few paper planes blown out of the alley across the street. Were there more? He quickly crossed the street and collected the scattered papers, and checking them. Sure enough, there were more songs. He had to find who was writing these! He made sure he collected all of them, sticking them inside of his jacket so they wouldn’t fly off.

He felt a paper plane whizz past him. He had missed one! He turned around to see it being blown down the street, and he quickly began chasing after it, apologizing as he went whenever he bumped into another person, but not taking his eyes off of the plane that seemed to continually be out of his reach. A few people glared at him for getting in the way, but he didn’t care. He needed that paper!

Guy-Man had just arrived to the coffee shop when he made a stupid mistake. He had just ever so slightly loosened his grip on the papers in his hand when he made to open the door into the coffee shop, but with that a paper was blown straight out of his hands. He cursed softly as he turned around to chase after it. Stupid damn paper having to get out of his grasp. He shoved people out of his way and ignored the indignant remarks as he chased after his paper, completely unaware that someone was chasing a piece of paper in his direction as well. 

Just as he managed to grasp his music he ran headfirst into another boy who was about a head taller than him. They crashed into the ground and Guy-Man held his nose from the pain that had just bloomed in it, and he glared at the person who had ran right into him. The boy was sheepishly smiling when he realized that he was holding...Was that one of Guy-Man’s planes?

“Hey...That’s mine.” He pointed to the plane.

The brunet boy gasped. “Is it? These are yours?” Guy-Man raised an eyebrow when the taller boy pulled out all the paper planes out from under his jacket.

“Oui...Why do you have them?” He narrowed his eyes. “Were you digging around in the alleyway? Are you a hobo?” With that jacket he sure did look like a hobo.  
“Non! One of them fell into the flowers I was looking at and then the rest of them blew out of the alleyway with the wind! I found out they were music and they were so amazing I had to keep them and hope that I would find the one who wrote them! O-oh, my name is Thomas by the way!”

“Wait. You think...You think they’re good?” Was that kid high? His pupils did look a bit dilated now that he thought about it…

“Oui! I was having trouble myself with writing my own music, so I went out to help my father on some errands to get my mind off of things. That’s when I found these...You write so well! Why would you throw them away?”

“Because they’re shit.” Guy-Man said bluntly. “I didn’t like them at all…”

Thomas shook his head. “They’re amazing! And compared to mine?” Thomas deflated slightly. “Mine are horrible.”

“I’m sure yours are better than mine.” Guy-Man mumbled, looking at the crumpled paper in his own hands.

“They aren’t…” Thomas brightened up suddenly. “Why don’t we try writing music together? Maybe if you combine two wrongs you’ll make a right?”

“That’s now how that wo--”

“Come on! Let’s go get some coffee! What’s your name by the way?” Thomas grinned widely at Guy-Man. He looked silly with paper planes sticking out of his jacket.

“Guy-Manuel. But I guess you can call me Guy-Man.”

“Okay! Come on Guy-Man! Let’s make music!”

Guy-Man cracked a small smile. “Oui. Fine. Let’s at least give it a try.”


End file.
